


The Further Adventures of Nancy Drew

by pandoradeloeste



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast), The College Tapes (Podcast)
Genre: 5 Times, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28449111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandoradeloeste/pseuds/pandoradeloeste
Summary: It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Caleb. There was just so much she didn’t know about atypicals, and she could never resist a good mystery. And an old injury and a fight he refused to talk about weredefinitelymysterious.(Five times Caitlin tried to find out the truth about Caleb’s fight with Damien)
Relationships: Adam Hayes/Caleb Michaels, Frankie Meeks/Caitlin Park
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	The Further Adventures of Nancy Drew

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-out to the entire TBS Discord for the absolute galaxy brain night we had coming up with this headcanon.
> 
> Trigger warnings for a glancing reference to homophobia, as well as anything we were warned for in Safe House (discussions of violence in particular).

It started with a poli sci paper.

Caitlin was very good at time management but between her senior essay and visiting Frankie the week before, she’d had to pull an all-nighter to finish her paper on the Supreme Court during the Reagan administration. It was horribly unfair. She’d already been accepted at Harvard Law. She had no business staying up all night anymore. To add insult to injury, she had an Intro to Poli Sci class to TA in an hour.

She was filling the coffee maker when Caleb shuffled blearily into the kitchen and started the electric kettle. “Long night?” he asked, voice scratchy from sleep.

“Paper,” she said shortly. “You heading back to Boston?”

“Yup.”

Caleb shifted his weight uncomfortably as the coffee maker and kettle ticked. They’d been working their way back toward friendship for a few months, but even with more caffeine than blood in her system, Caitlin did _not_ have the energy to pretend friendliness. Besides, Caleb would probably be able to tell she was faking. She pulled her sweatshirt sleeves down over her hands. The kitchen was always cold unless someone was cooking, especially on wet mornings.

She was watching bubbles form on the inside of the kettle when Caleb cursed, and the box of green tea spilled onto the floor. She knelt to help him pick up the teabags and noticed him flexing his hands gingerly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s an old. . .my hands just get stiff sometimes when it’s cold.”

“Football injury, right?” Caleb had spent November of their senior year with splints on his fingers.

“. . .Sure.”

He was an awful liar, and even worse at hiding when he was uncomfortable. The polite thing would have been to let it go, but caffeine and sleep deprivation did bad things to Caitlin’s impulse control. “I thought we agreed you weren’t keeping secrets from me anymore, Caleb,” she said, mock-stern, and he flinched as he put away the tea. “Did you slam your hand in a door or something?”

“No.”

“High-five someone too hard?”

“ _No._ ”

“Get in a fight to defend Adam’s honor?”

Caleb almost spilled hot water on the counter before putting down the kettle too hard. “Caitlin, seriously, _drop it._ ”

“So there _was_ a fight. Did you win?” He didn’t answer. “What am I saying, of course you won.”

Caleb picked up his mug and left the kitchen abruptly as the coffeemaker beeped.

**1\. Adam**

It wasn’t that she didn’t _trust_ Caleb, she thought as she cracked eggs into a pan for brunch. . .dinner. . .whatever you called the meal after you slept off an all-nighter. She might not trust his ability, or his judgment (he’d offered to intentionally push emotions onto her a few times so that she could see what it felt like, which was just. . . _why,_ why would he think that was something she’d want to experience again). But his heart was in the right place, especially when it came to Adam.

There was just so much she didn’t know, even after four months of dating Frankie and a few awkward coffee dates with Caleb. Finding out about atypicals had made her rethink so much of their high school and college years (the Sadie Hawkins dance, the fights Caleb kept getting into during junior year, Adam’s references to his “synesthesia” over the past four years). She hated feeling out of her depth.

Also, she liked a good mystery. And cryptic references to old injuries and a fight he refused to talk about were nothing if not mysterious.

Adam wandered in as she was scooping eggs onto her plate. “Ooh, _bacon._ ”

“Quit stealing. Make your own.” She’d purposely made extra, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would take a few pieces once he smelled it cooking. “It’s still weird to me that you nearly got yourself written up in Saybrook for lighting Chanukah candles, but you steal my bacon all the time.”

“Just because I’m Jewish doesn’t mean bacon isn’t delicious,” he said with his mouth full.

“You realize you’re going to have to learn to make it yourself next year when I’m off at Harvard?”

“Nah. I’ll just have Caleb make it for me.”

Caitlin chewed the inside of her cheek. “Hey, what was that fight that Caleb got into during senior year? The one where he broke his hand?”

He swallowed and frowned. “Why?”

“Just curious.” The frown deepened. “I want to know if my best friend is dating someone with anger management issues! Is that so wrong?”

“Caleb doesn’t have anger management issues.” Adam turned away and started hunting through the refrigerator.

“ _Adam._ ”

“We were in trouble, and Caleb stepped up to help. That’s really all it is.”

“That’s it.”

“Yup.”

“Really.”

“Really.”

“Because Caleb seemed really cagey about it this morning, and that’s pretty -”

“Leave it alone, Caitlin.” Adam stood up with a bottle of the weird craft beer he liked. “Someone threatened us, Caleb was defending me and got hurt. It was over fast. It’s barely worth talking about.”

“Oh.”

Adam mumbled something about his reading and went back to his room. Caitlin mulled it over as she put bread in the toaster oven. Boston was a pretty liberal city, but it was entirely plausible that some homophobic asshole had decided to cause trouble for them. She could see Caleb in high school getting angry enough to punch a stranger.

But then why would he be so secretive about it? Defending yourself from a bigot was a pretty good reason to get into a fight. Had he punched a senator’s kid? A cop?

She smelled smoke seconds before the fire alarm went off. Apparently Frankie had forgotten to turn the toaster back down after his last visit. She made a note to yell at him about it later, after opening all the windows and turning off the fire alarm.

**2\. Frankie**

“When did you find out you could do that?”

“Between high school and college.” Frankie was making sparks jump between his hands like an atypical version of cat’s cradle, lighting the bed with strobe-like flashes. “I fried so many phones that summer. My parents made me switch to flip phones until I got a handle on my powers.”

“Harsh.” She put her hands over his to feel the static buzz over her skin.

“Wasn’t so bad. I found an atypical subreddit, looked up a lot of newbie FAQs, learned more than I ever thought I’d need to know about electrical engineering, and now I have my apps back and texting doesn’t take ten years.”

“There’s an atypical subreddit?” She felt silly the minute she asked. Of course there was. There were subreddits for everything.

“Where else do you go when your body goes haywire and you feel like you’re going crazy? The internet, obviously.” He saw her expression and kissed her nose. “I didn’t feel like I was going crazy, not really. _This_ is pretty easy to confirm.” He sent a few sparks crackling over their hands, making Caitlin jump at the sharp sting. “But some of the mental abilities, like telepathy or precognition? People can spend _years_ convinced they have anxiety or schizophrenia before figuring it out. Having a community helps.”

Caitlin thought about Professor Beck’s ability to see pasts and Caleb’s mood ring powers. “Yeah, I get that.”

“I don’t know what atypical kids did before the internet. Probably depended on the AM for everything. God, that must have _sucked._ ”

“The AM. . .that’s the group that came to clean up at Russell Library on Halloween.”

“ _After_ all the fighting was over, of course.” Frankie waved a hand dismissively. “They’re not too bad now. Mostly just a little cringe because they’ve still got non-atypicals making decisions about us without actually consulting us. But a few years ago? Whole different vibe. If you really want to hear some horror stories, you should talk to Caleb.”

Caitlin pulled her hands away from Frankie’s and rolled over to face him. “Caleb? Why? What did he do?”

“I don’t think _he_ did anything - I don’t know, he doesn’t talk about it much, but I think he got mixed up with them his senior year of high school. He had to go into hiding and fight off an atypical from the AM who tried to kidnap him.”

She blinked slowly in the dark. “So _that’s_ how he broke his hand?”

"Probably. I just assumed the guy he punched was an AM agent. I mean, he has to be, right? Who goes by Damien? Either a complete tool or someone using a codename.”

“ _Fuck._ ” She wasn’t entirely new to the idea of atypicals kidnapping each other - Ben’s abduction had put paid to any romantic ideas she’d had about unilateral atypical solidarity. But she knew the Vafi were out of commission. Was this Damien agent still someone they needed to worry about? Was he someone who could threaten Frankie? Or her and Adam? And why the hell had nobody told her this was something she needed to worry about _three years ago?_

“Hey, hey, relax.” Frankie tugged her back down. “They don’t actually come after you unless you break the law with your powers. And like I said, they’ve been a lot less shady lately. We’re _fine._ ”

Caitlin took a deep breath and let Frankie pull her back down, and reminded herself that of the two of them, Frankie was the expert on atypicals and any dangers they faced. She could worry about other atypicals and shadowy government agencies later. Right now she had more pressing concerns, like the spot on Frankie’s neck that always made him squirm.

**3\. Sadie**

**S:** you left your sweatshirt here last weekend  
**S:** want me to send it with Caleb?

 **C:** no I have another one, I can live without it for a few weeks  
**C:** I’ll get it when I’m in Boston for Sam’s seder  
**C:** do I need to bring anything? I’ve been to exactly one seder ever

 **S:** no it’s pretty chill  
**S:** if you want you can bring something to drink  
**S:** not beer, alcohol = bad at atypical parties

 **C:** hey can I ask you a dumb question?  
**C:** how worried do we need to be about other atypicals taking an unhealthy interest in Frankie?  
**C:** or anyone else we know

 **S:** is this about the Vafi?

 **C:** not exactly  
**C:** or maybe  
**C:** idk I just found out that another atypical tried to kidnap Caleb when we were in high school  
**C:** and I have questions  
**C:** bc apparently this is my life now, people kidnap my friends and nobody tells me about it until it’s too late

 **S:** ok this isn’t my story to tell but here’s what I can tell you  
**S:** 1) we don’t need to worry about that other atypical anymore, he is very much out of the picture  
**S:** and 2) I know you’re only asking because you’re worried about Frankie and Caleb but fr DO NOT ask around about this  
**S:** it was seriously traumatic and Caleb is still messed up about it  
**S:** (Adam too, I think)  
**S:** we just got done reversing the last stupid decision he made when the trauma bear got poked, please don’t poke it again  
**S:** nm I know what you can bring  
**S:** ask Adam to make a fuckton of matzo crack  
**S:** Sam and Mags always underestimate how much matzo crack college boys can eat

 **C:** not sure what that is but ok

 **S:** trust me it’s life-changing

**4\. Oliver**

Matzo crack wasn’t life-changing, but it _was_ good enough that Caitlin made a mental note to make another batch for reading week study fuel. It got Adam and Oliver high enough on sugar to get into a long argument about the historical veracity of the ten plagues and whether any Hebrew tribes had actually been in Egypt. After the third glass got knocked over, Sam banished them to separate rooms. Adam, Frankie, and the others took over the living room, while Oliver sulked in the library with Mark.

Caitlin stayed back to help Mags clean up and ask a few questions about the AM: what it was like working there (like any other office job but with more fire extinguishers and reinforced office furniture), how long atypicals had been employed there (at least ten years, although the work environment had gotten a lot friendlier to atypicals in the last four), and whether the AM tracked any atypicals (only the ones who had consented to go through the AM’s program, or who had been proven to be dangerous).

They ran out of dishes to wash before Caitlin could figure out a polite way to ask “what are the chances that one particular AM employee could cause problems for me or my friends”, and she excused herself to rejoin the party. As she passed the library she heard Mark say “. . .threw my back out helping Sam move out of the old place.”

“ _You_ helped her move. _Really._ Mister I-can-barely-bench-press-a-hummingbird. You couldn’t have just hired someone, or asked Caleb to help? That kid could probably bench-press _you._ ”

“Jesus, _no,_ I wasn’t going to ask him to come back to the house where he almost. . .” Caitlin froze. “It was a rough time for all of us, and I didn’t want to make it worse. Besides, his hand was fucked up.”

Caitlin backtracked and peeked through the crack in the library door. Oliver was standing by the bookshelves paging through one of the books, and Mark was fidgeting with a paperweight on a side table. He frowned and looked up. “Wait, who’s. . .Caitlin? Is that you?”

Right. Of course there wouldn’t be any chance of sneaking up on someone in a house full of atypicals. Caitlin decided that she may as well get some answers, and pushed open the door. “Were you there when the AM tried to kidnap Caleb?”

Mark blinked. “I’m sorry, _what?_ ”

“It’s okay, Caleb told me most of it already,” she lied. “I just want to know if I should worry about the AM coming back for him.”

“Caitlin, I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about. The AM is. . .was. . .trash, but they were never interested in Caleb.”

“And I _genuinely_ don’t appreciate this atypical code of silence you all seem to have,” she snapped. “I was there on Halloween, remember? I helped stop a fucking cult. I think I’ve earned the right to know if Caleb is in danger of being arrested by the atypical secret police again, especially since he’s _dating my roommate._ ” She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Look, I just need to know if that Damien agent is still out there.”

“Damien? Your ex from your road trip? He’s not an AM agent,” Oliver said, surprising both of them.

“Oliver. . .” Mark sighed.

Oliver didn’t look up from his book. “Skinny emo kid, right? Black hoodie? Yeah, I remember when he was brought in. It was about a year before we met, I think?”

“ _Oliver._ ”

“Wait, Damien wasn’t with the AM? Then why would Caleb hit him?”

“Oh, _Caleb_ worked him over? Hm, that makes sense. He did have that run-over-by-a-truck look. Honestly, I was surprised he was still alive the next day. You know, I never found out why Emo Kid was on our floor. He always looked completely harmless to me. But if he mixed it up with Caleb and -”

" _Oliver!_ "

Oliver looked up and blinked at them. “Oh. That. . .wasn’t public knowledge, was it.”

Mark buried his head in his hands. “Fucking _Christ,_ would you learn to _think_ before you open your fucking mouth -”

“Well, I’m _sorry,_ I didn’t realize it was a state secret -”

Caitlin left Mark and Oliver bickering and stormed into the living room, where Adam was standing by the window scrolling through his phone. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway. “Hey, what -”

“You _lied_ to me, asshole!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The fight Caleb was in? The one you said was self-defense and ‘barely worth talking about’? You didn’t mention that he nearly _beat someone to death!_ You didn’t think that was something I needed to know before letting him back into our lives?”

Adam looked back at the living room. “Caitlin, can we talk about this later? It’s kind of complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me, and fast, because I’ve heard at least five different versions of this story, and each one is worse. And unless I get some answers, I’m getting on the next bus back to Yale, and he is _not_ allowed back in the apartment because I’m not sleeping with an _attempted murderer_ in the next room.”

“I will, I promise, but not right -” He looked past Caitlin. “Oh shit, _Caleb._ ”

Caitlin turned to see Caleb standing behind them, looking stricken. “Oh good, finally someone who can give me a straight answer. Start talking. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

“Caleb, you don’t have to -”

“No,” Caleb said. He sounded shaken but determined. “No, she’s right. I promised I wasn’t going to keep secrets anymore, so. . .wait, are _you_ okay with it? If I tell her about Annabelle?”

Adam sighed. “What the hell, why not. I was going to if you didn’t.”

“I swear to god, if one of you doesn’t start making some sense -"

“I know. Can we go somewhere else? It’s really. . . _loud_ in here.”

“Backyard?”

He nodded and squared his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go.”

**5\. Caleb**

Caitlin had learned from the last two world-shattering revelations and was already sitting on the porch swing before Caleb began talking. It helped, a little. So did the cold air on her face. She still felt like her head was going to explode.

“Say something, please?” Caleb said hoarsely.

“I. . .don’t really know what to say.” What _could_ you say when someone told you your best friend’s aunt was in charge of the atypical secret police and he'd almost been taken hostage in exchange for an experimental serum, and their boyfriend had beaten the attempted kidnapper into a pulp? _I’m sorry_ was inadequate. _I understand_ was untrue on _so_ many levels. She settled for, “Damien, is he. . .how is he? I know he survived, but is he okay?”

“Not really. He’s alive, but he never got his ability back.” Caleb scrubbed his hands over his face.

“And just so we’re clear, he’s not going to show up and demand a rematch?”

“He left Boston a few years ago. If he didn’t look me up when we lived in the same city, I don’t know why he would now. Sam keeps tabs on him every so often. He’s working for an animal shelter in Atlanta. I guess he learned how to not be a dick. To dogs, at least.”

A fire engine wailed past the house. Caitlin chewed her thumbnail. “Okay, for the record,” she began carefully, “I completely understand punching Damien. By all accounts it was the only way to stop him. If your ability let you overpower his - mind control, or whatever, well done, and good fucking riddance to that asshole.”

Caleb jammed his hands into his pockets. “There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there.”

“Caleb, you put the guy in a _coma._ That’s way beyond self-defense. That’s. . .”

“Out of control. I know.” His shoulders were hunched and miserable. “Everyone’s anger was stronger than Damien’s want, but then it was too strong for _me_ to control, and. . .well. You know the rest.”

“This is kind of a theme with you, isn’t it? Losing control because of your ability?” It came out sharper than she’d intended.

“God, you have _no_ idea.” He walked to the edge of the patio and leaned against the railing, looking out into the yard. “I didn’t know Damien very well, but Mark spent more time with him and he’s told me some stuff, and he’s. . .god, he’s a mess. Well, he was a mess, he might be better now. But back when he had his ability? He had absolutely no control, and he was _so lonely,_ and he couldn’t trust anyone, and he stopped seeing other people as, you know, people. Or, I don’t know, maybe he wouldn’t have anyway and the ability just made it worse. He couldn’t trust anyone because he didn’t know when people were nice to him, or gave him things, or whatever, because they actually wanted to, or because he _wanted_ them to want to, and I can’t. . .” He cleared his throat. “I can’t live that way. I can’t make the people around me live that way, either.”

“If you don’t want to control other people, or push your emotions onto us, then _don’t._ I don’t understand what the problem is.”

"That’s what I’ve been _trying_ to do for the past two - actually, no, I spent a year making stupid decisions to avoid it and making it harder to control, but I’ve _actually_ been trying since Halloween. Dr. Bright’s offered to get me into a sort of atypical boot camp at the AM, but I’d have to miss classes, so for now I’m trying to get better at noticing when I’m pushing emotions onto people. Adam says he can tell when an emotion is his or mine, so I spent a while pushing emotions onto people I spend a lot of time with so that they can see what it feels like and tell me if I’m doing it by accident.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, remembering his offers to let her know what having his feelings pushed onto her felt like. “So _that’s_ what you were trying to do.”

“But even if the AM can help me, and I get a therapist I can talk to about atypical stuff, and everyone I love knows how to stop me from manipulating them, I think. . .I think this is just my life now. I’m always going to have to be careful, and I might slip up anyway and get overwhelmed, or accidentally make someone feel my emotions, and that’s not going to be okay with everyone, and I totally understand if it isn’t, but that’s. . .that fucking _sucks_."

Caleb took a shuddering breath and flexed his hands against the railing. Caitlin’s own breath caught a little, watching the boy she’d known since preschool wait to see what she decided. Six months ago she might have thought this was too much drama for a friendly acquaintance who used to date her best friend. It probably still was. By all rights she was supposed to be finishing her senior essay, and making Legally Blonde jokes about going to Harvard Law next year, and getting preemptively nostalgic about Old Campus in the fall. But like it or not, she was a part of the atypical world now, with all of its mess and chaos and beauty and (tonight, at least) morally complicated decisions.

She thought about the chaos Caleb’s ability caused, in high school, in a different house with Adam in danger, in their apartment in New Haven. She thought about how hard he worked at controlling the chaos, sacrificing his relationship with Adam briefly, baring himself to the scrutiny of people who could easily reject him for it. She thought about every moment in the past four years when he’d been there to comfort Adam, the painfully genuine concern and caring for his friends, the way he’d helped fight off the Vafi without throwing a single punch or losing control again.

She stood up and walked to the edge of the patio, where Caleb was standing against the railing, head down and braced for impact, and hugged him hard. “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly, and then, " _oof,_ hey, whoa, it’s okay,” when he sagged into her and sobbed. She let go of him with one arm and steadied them against the railing. Caleb was _heavy_ , bless his himbo heart.

“All right, Human Mood Ring,” she said when he wound down. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go see if Sadie left us any matzo crack.”

Being friends with Caleb would be messy and chaotic. But in the words of another Harvard Law student: what, like it’s _hard?_

**Author's Note:**

> Caitlin is wrong and [matzo crack](https://www.thespruceeats.com/matzo-crack-4581250) is, in fact, life-changing.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and stay strange.


End file.
